


Strange New Sherlock

by notthepharmacy



Series: Dr. Sherlock Strange (Eventual Johnlock) [2]
Category: Marvel, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: EventualJohnlock, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Sherlock is an idiot, Sherlock/drstrange crossover, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26251879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthepharmacy/pseuds/notthepharmacy
Summary: Sherlock has returned home after the Fall and John is not happy. John is also unaware that Sherlock has some strange new abilities that he hadn’t had before. This is part of a series. If you haven’t read The Investigative Journal of Dr. Sherlock Strange, I suggest you start there.
Relationships: Johnlock
Series: Dr. Sherlock Strange (Eventual Johnlock) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1907089
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Strange New Sherlock

January 3 2014

It has been three days since I came back to London. John still won’t see me. I have gone to check on the London sanctum twice now, and have already solved five cases from the comfort of 221b. I’m not quite sure what else to do. The Sanctum Master is already worried that I am going to do something rash and has recommended my return to Kathmandu. Naturally, I refused. It has come to my attention, through the discovery of this journal by Wong, that I am ‘like a teenage girl with her diary.’ Therefore, I have come to the conclusion that I should begin writing more detailed accounts of my life. Perhaps I will publish it someday and have a book that rivals even John’s blog. 

I have gone to visit John too many times to count at this point and am now seeking the counsel of Molly Hooper. I realized that my judgement of her was misplaced when she helped me feign my own suicide in 2012. This brought me to realize that she was stronger an ally than my initial judgement of her. 

I walked into her home, uninvited of course, and sat across from her. She was startled, inexplicably as you would think she’d be used to this by now, and she immediately flushed. I had refrained from using my new abilities in front of anyone until now when I realized she needed the whole truth. That actually reminded me that I had not confided in my journal exactly what happened, so I decided to write a detailed account of my derailing of Moriarty in another journal. I titled it in a manner that I am sure would exasperate John. ‘The Adventures of Sherlock Strange.’ He is so nit picky with his titles. I think they’re too extravagant. 

Anyways, back to the events of that particular morning. 

Molly Hooper, after hearing my story, walked away. She got up, turned around, and walked out the door. I deduced that she would be back in about an hour judging by her expression and the coat and bag that she grabbed, so I opened a portal into 221B and waited. I was back 45 minutes later, just in case I had misjudged, (I hadn’t) and she arrived 15 minutes after. 

“So what you’re saying,” She said, “Is that you’re a surgeon now?”  
I chuckled and sent her a cocky smirk. 

“My brain can do many exceptional things. One of those things is learning how to be a world-class surgeon in 10 days.”

She shook her head in disbelief. 

“A wizard surgeon.” She muttered. “Unbelievable.”

“I am still also a consulting detective” I supplied readily, wanting her to remember that I was able to read her like as book.

She shook herself again, as if trying to get a hold on reality, and nodded.

“Okay... so John is mad at you. And you can’t fix it. Shocker.” She snarked. “All you can do is give it time... you hurt him. He won’t get over that so easily.”

I shook my head this time. “I don’t understand! I said sorry! Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

She tutted at me with a look of amusement mixed with sympathy. “Of course, Sherlock. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t still mad! Like I said, give it time.” 

I nodded and walked towards the door. In my head, John shook his head at me. ‘What do we say?’ Head John asked.

“Oh and Molly? Thanks.” The look of surprise on her face was amusing to say the least.

Of course, you can’t expect me to accept that I had to wait. I opened a portal into Christine’s apartment where she was working on a new procedure with a zucchini.   
“Really?” I asked, making her jump. “A zucchini?”

“Ah, Stephen!” She exclaimed,trying to hide her shakiness. “What can I do for you?” 

I smiled and stuck out my hand. “Sherlock Holmes. World’s only Consulting Detective. Pleasure to see you again, Christine.”

Her eyebrows spiked up and she gestured for me to explain. 

“I faked my death in 2012 to save my friends’ lives. I am an autistic high-functioning sociopath that aids the Scotland Yard when they fail to do their job, which is nearly every case. dismantled the network of a brilliant fiend named Jim Moriarty after acquiring the powers that I possess today. My best friend, John Watson, is not speaking to me, most presumably because of the whole, you know, the whole being dead thing. Or more accurately, not being dead. Any questions?”

Christine opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish in astonishment. “So... your whole... everything is a-a lie?”

I shook my head. “No, everything I told you is true.”

She sighed. “No, you being a surgeon, and being a New Yorker... That’s all fake?”

“Yes obviously. Do keep up.” I responded.

She did a double take. “I guess your arrogance wasn’t a front.” She snarked.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Are you going to help or not?” I asked in frustration. I had gone so long without John that I was going into withdrawal. 

Christine nodded. “Give him time. And maybe give me some time too.” She gestured towards the door and massaged her forehead. 

I sighed in exasperation but complied. Opening another portal, I appeared back at 221B... in front of Mrs. Hudson.

“Hello Sherlock dear, how are-“ The realization dawned on her and she stared from me, to my sling ring, to the portal, and back to me. “What the fu-!”

“I-“ 

“You’re dripping magic all over my rug! Clean it up this instant, young man. I’m not your housekeeper!”

I grin with relief. As much as I love explaining things, I wasn’t in the mood for a third long winded explanation and difficult talk. Good ol’ Mrs. Hudson.


End file.
